


Hiccups

by peppermintquartz



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hiccups, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintquartz/pseuds/peppermintquartz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham can't stop his hiccups.<br/>It makes for an interesting day at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiccups

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing NaNoWriMo so of course this goddamn bunny comes and nibbles at my toes.  
> I don't do sweet often so I hope you guys like this short piece.

Will has the hiccups.

He woke up this morning without them, but in the midst of drinking his coffee, his diaphragm suddenly contracted. The dogs perked up their ears when they heard the first 'hic', but soon returned to wolfing down their morning kibble. Will only frowned faintly, and returned to mentally sorting through his lecture for the day. The hiccups plagued him throughout his sparse breakfast, but he figured it would disappear once he got to his office.

It turns out that these hiccups are the persistent sort. For some reason, they refuse to fade. Even as the students file in for his first lecture of the day, he's drinking water slowly to force them away. However, the hiccups keep interrupting his usually deadpan delivery of the content, like little punchlines to jokes he isn't telling. The agents-in-training do their best to remain professional, but a few can't restrain their giggles as Will's description of a particularly gruesome torture-murder scene is jolted by a sudden series of hiccups.

"Excuse me, I don't _*hic*_ usually find it that hard to _*hic*_ get rid of them," he says with a slightly abashed smile. Even he is finding it silly.

The lecture becomes just a tad more convivial, since it's really difficult to dwell on the shadows of gory murders when he is hiccuping every two phrases. The students participate more, raising pertinent observations and Will directing the discussions with little more than a nod or a gesture, and an occasional word or two. It is easily the most active class he has had in years.

 _Perhaps I should really get them to talk more,_ he thinks after time is up. Some of the students offer suggestions on how to get rid of hiccups that worked for them before they leave, and Will promises to give the suggestions a try if the hiccups don't subside soon.

The hiccups are not as severe as in the first lecture, but he lets the students speak more in the next one, so it may just be that he hasn't talked much.

*****

"Hi Will!" Alana Bloom strides in, her heels clicking elegantly on the floor. "Are you free for lunch?"

"I _*hic*_ should be  _*hic*_ Damn." Will wrinkles his nose and tugs off his glasses. "Stupid hiccups haven't subsided since this morning."

Alana looks amused. "That sounds bad. Have you tried holding your breath and exhaling slowly?"

"I did," says Will. His shoulders slump. "Okay. I'll gi- _*hic*_ give it another go."

He inhales, holds his breath for a count of thirty, and slowly breathes out.

"Did it work?" Alana asks, curious and bright-eyed.

"I think so," says Will cautiously, and then stands up to get his satchel to go with the psychiatrist for lunch. "How come you're here anyway? Don't you have lessons in-  _*hic*_ "

Alana's lovely lips barely suppresses her giggle. "Guess it didn't work."

*****

During their lunch, Alana has Will plug his ears and gulp down some water through a straw. It's going to be very silly, but she insists that it always works for her nieces and nephew.

"Come on, Alana, I'll look _*hic*_ stupid," he protests, flushed to his ears. He definitely does not want to thought of as her nephew.

"Will..." She puts on her best 'professor' look, and pouts her kissable lips.

Will sighs, hiccups, and does what she says.

It does not work.

He is about to give it another go when his phone rings. It's Jack, who rattles off a string of information after Will picks up.

Alana looks sympathetic. "Where will you be going?"

"Hilton," says Will. His appetite is gone. Unfortunately, the hiccups remain.

*****

Beverly is the first one to see Will and waves to him. She gets one of the underlings to pass him some gloves, and shoos him away. "Hey Graham."

"Hi," says Will shortly, not trusting that his hiccups won't turn up.

"It's a mess inside," says Beverly. "Jack's waiting on you. Don't tell him I said anything, will ya? All the 'fresh eyes' thing he thinks you need."

Will just nods at her, and ignores the hiccup that makes his chest lurch.

Before he can make his escape, she says, "Oh yeah, we're having a get-together at a pub tomorrow to celebrate Jim's birthday. Come along?"

"I don't know if I should," says Will honestly, but his curt tone is ruined when he hiccups at the end of the sentence.

Beverly grins. "Okay. Go do your thing with the scene, and we'll try to sort out your 'cups."

*****

When he gets to the hotel room, he understands why the local police have called them in. Arterial spray paints the walls and even made it up to the ceiling, and the crisscrossing lines of dark red tell Will that something went terribly wrong. He has to figure out how.

Jack hollers at everyone to clear out. The yell makes Will jump. The head of the BAU then comes over. "Well, we've got three in here. Tell me what you can."

Will nods, and waits for Jack himself to leave.

The pendulum swings once. Twice. Thr _*hic*_

_Godammit._

His attention wavers. Will takes another deep breath, and lets the pendulum swing again. Thankfully, this time the hiccups don't break his deliberate fall into the scene.

"I follow the couple into the hotel room, believing that this will be a fun romp in an otherwise boring night," he murmurs. The other couple is sleek and well-to-do, polished and expensive and bored, looking to spice up their lives. It starts off well enough and we move to the bed, and that's when things start going wrong."

In his mind's eye, Will sees the first couple taking out their toys- * _hic*_

The hiccup shakes him out of his reconstruction, but thankfully he's seen enough to make an educated guess. He goes to the door and opens it. "Jack. This is a sex game gone wrong * _hic*_ I'm sorry, that is, um. The couple on the * _hic*_ bed were the initiators, but the other two they found * _hic*_ were not experienced enough. There was an accident and then the fourth * _hic*_ one panicked and hurt his or her partner."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "This is due to panic? All that blood?"

"Yeah," says Will. He tries to regulate his breathing but the smell of recent death and stale blood in the room makes it hard. "He or she cut into an artery and from * _hic*_ there, it's a sequence * _hic*_ of freak accidents. Probably fled * _hic*_ with the weapon."

"It's rather hard for me to take you seriously with the hiccups, Will." The man doesn't look disapproving, but he's not too pleased either.

"Sorry, Jack, nothing I've tried so far * _hic*_ worked." Will shakes his head, annoyed with himself. "Anyway, going by the * _hic*_ state of the room, I'd say some* _hic*_ someone of average height, originally low- or * _hic*_ middle-income who just came into money. Not with a * _hic*_ high level of education."

Jack nods. "Try swallowing sugar, Will."

*****

Price and Zeller argue over the efficacy of sugar versus salt, both condiments that they filch from the hotel's bar. Beverly advocates the burping method.

The sugar tasted fine (Will has a secret sweet tooth) but didn't work. Will tries it three more times, just to be sure.

The salt was horrible and Will ends up drinking too fast to get rid of the taste on his tongue, and the hiccups grow worse. He turns down the offer to try it a second time.

He flat out refuses to burp.

Beverly is disappointed because she doesn't get to record Will's burp for her new message tone, and kicks him gently in the shin for not indulging her.

*****

By evening, Will is about ready to claw out his diaphragm. He's  _still_  hiccuping, even as he sits with his head in his hands in the waiting room outside Dr Lecter's office. He's so exhausted from the hiccups, he doesn't even hear the door open.

"Will? Are you all right?" Dr Lecter's accented voice conveys gentle concern. "Do you have a headache?"

"Oh, no," says Will, glancing up with a start when he feels the doctor's warm hand on the back of his neck. Coming from anyone else, it would have felt intrusive; from Dr Lecter, it feels natural. Will wonders why, but the train of thought is derailed completely when he hiccups. He groans and lets his head hang forward more. "Yeah. I've had hiccups the whole * _hic*_ day."

Dr Lecter seems amused by Will's problem. "That sounds rather terrible." he ushers Will into the office and takes his jacket to hang by the door.

"Well, it * _hic*_ meant that I had two * _hic*_ very student-directed lectures, and an * _hic*_ interrupted crime scene * _hic*_ recreation," says Will glumly. "I can't take myself seriously with the hiccups. Aren't they supposed * _hic*_ to fade quickly?"

"For most people, yes. Though you are certainly not most people."

"I'd like to be, at * _hic*_ least in this," says Will, and leans back in the chair. He passes a clammy hand over his face and then sighs. "Sorry, Dr Lecter, I'm * _hic*_ not sure what we're going to talk about that, and whatever * _hic*_ I say is going to sound ridiculous with the * _hic*_ hiccups."

Dr Lecter stands and beckons to Will to join him by the window. It is dimly lit there; the light from the desk and by the chairs do not illuminate the space here. "Come over here, Will."

"Another cure?"

"Perhaps. I like to think it will work." Dr Lecter has that enigmatic hint of a smile playing over sculpted features.

Will scrubs a hand through his curls, and then gets up to join the psychiatrist. "If you tickle me, I may * _hic*_ just punch you," he warns as a weak joke.

The older man just tilts his head. "Noted."

"So what's this miracle cure?" Will asks when he's standing next to the doctor and staring out into the quiet street through the gauzy curtains.

Dr Lecter turns Will and kisses him on the lips. 

The shock makes Will freeze on the spot.

It's not a kiss meant to seduce; it's a firm press of mouth to mouth. Yet Will feels his heart racing and his hands grow sweaty. He thinks about the sidewalk, the window with the gauzy curtains, that if someone looks up, they'll see him and Dr Lecter kissing. Close to, the older man smells rich and woody, but not overpoweringly so. He can count the lines around Dr Lecter's eyes, see the pale-colored eyebrows, feel the soft brush of warm, moist air from Dr Lecter's nose over his cheek.

Dr Lecter just holds Will there until Will remembers to breathe again through his nose. Then the psychiatrist pulls away and his smile deepens.

"How do you feel now?" Dr Lecter asks, taking a step back from Will.

The younger man blinks a few times, his brain trying to process what just happened. It is almost a minute before he can look at Dr Lecter. "Did you just kiss me?"

"Yes," says the doctor placidly.

"That... Okay." Will touches his lips. "Okay."

Dr Lecter smiles and walks back to his chair. "Do you still have hiccups?"

"I don't think so, but I'm not sure if it's wishful... Hey. They're gone!" The younger man smiles with relief, but when he meets Dr Lecter's warm gaze, he averts his eyes. "Um, thank you. I don't suppose you do that for everyone?"

"I hardly come across hiccuping patients."

"That's not what I'm asking and you know it," Will says, daring a peek at the psychiatrist's face. He licks his lips subconsciously, and then realizes that he is doing it. "Anyway, thanks. It worked."

"You're welcome," says Dr Lecter. "Now, what shall we talk about tonight?"

"I think..." Will chews on his bottom lip, and then glances up to look directly into burgundy eyes. "Let's talk about how a person should go about asking Dr Hannibal Lecter out for dinner."

The smile around Dr Lecter's eyes warms to something playful. "As you wish."

**Author's Note:**

> drop me a message on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kt_adrienne) or [Tumblr](http://a-kent.tumblr.com/) or a comment here!


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